


This Town

by parkjinchu



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Mutual Pining, Obsessive Behavior, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjinchu/pseuds/parkjinchu
Summary: A songfic of the song This Town by Niall Horan.Phil has loved Dan for fourteen years, despite the fact that Dan left him eight years ago. Determined to make Dan fall in love with him again, Phil attends his ten year high school anniversary, where Dan seems to have been waiting for him, too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Phil is like... Literally _obsessed_ with Dan. Like, no joke. But, so is Dan. If you don't like obsessive, creepy behaviour I'd say to be cautious when reading this fic. If you begin to get uncomfortable, please stop reading. It's not OTT, and definitely not explicit, so it really does depend on the reader's perspective.

The sun is upsettingly warm.

Phil wants to sleep-in to cherish the sheets soaked with warmth some more. He rolls over into the patch of sun, a gentle heat against the skin on his back. It makes him shiver – it’s a similar warmth to waking up beside someone. He knows.

He wants to kiss _him_. Over, and over. If Phil tries hard enough, he can recreate the scent he’d once known so well. This is wrong – he knows it.

Phil, for many years now, had wondered how long it takes to get over someone you love. After the most devastating break-up of his life, thus far, Phil still hasn’t been able to piece himself back together. There was something so indescribably beautiful about his high-school sweetheart, who fled their romance as he skipped off to a different university. Phil had thought they’d be together forever, but maybe he clung too tightly onto this belief.

It feels wrong, dirty, even, to still be in love with someone he’d once known – or now, the idea of them. He can imagine how much the boy has changed, grown. Phil wonders if he’s moved on ahead of him, given himself a happy family and a happy life, all thoughts of Phil eradicated. Phil hopes, at least, he’s a distant, bitter-sweet thought.

Phil will find out today, he supposes, at his 10 Year High School Reunion. He’ll go back in time, and meet up with all his high school friends, with ten years added onto their lives. He might even see Dan Howell again. Phil knows he’ll fall in love all over again, and it’s quite sad, really. He’ll be the most miserable of the bunch, without a blossoming family, nor a blossoming love life.

It was hard to find lasting love when you were still stuck eight years in the past.

Phil had only had one semi-successful relationship since his devastating departure from Dan Howell. Her name was Bella, and she was a sweet girl with a deep love for literature. Which was painfully alike to Dan’s high school personality, but Phil tried to forget that. She had short blonde hair and a big heart that tried to ignore the fact that Phil was still in love with his long-lost ex, but she only lasted a few short seasons before bidding Phil a teary goodbye.

Phil waits for the kettle to boil, and wonders what he’ll say to Dan. He knows he shouldn’t mention how many times he’s seen him in a crowd, only to realise it wasn’t actually him. As he continues getting ready, and trying to make himself look like his life didn’t fall apart along with his heart, Phil can’t decide if he really does want to see Dan again, or not.

It’s a long commute from London to the town where he grew up. Phil sits on the train, and there’s no one he recognises on his carriage. His jacket is uncomfortably itchy around his wrists. Phil wonders what Dan will wear – he certainly won’t wear smart-casual, as it said on the emailed invitation. Dan was never one to conform to the uniform, and Phil chuckles to himself as he remembers the countless detentions Dan received for wearing black skinny-jeans instead of black slacks.

Maybe that was partly Phil’s fault – he’d always tell Dan how great he looked in them.

The woman beside him on the train gives him an odd look as he seems to laugh at nothing, and he blushes.

He steps off the train, and out of the station, breathing in the fresh air. The town is just as he’d remembered it – with the pub on the corner, and the convenience store directly opposite. Lines of barely successful solo boutiques, and a big supermarket complex over the hill. Stepping back into the town for the first time since he’d moved to London gave Phil flashes of the past, and he feels blue.

He feels even worse, when he sees the chair that he and Dan had shared their first kiss on had been removed, the cement left with four holes in the ground where the legs used to be. Phil remembers that night, when it rained and they’d left a party because Dan felt sad and he wanted to watch the trains come in, even if no one got off. Phil had thought it was weird, and he didn’t understand, but it was oddly endearing. Dan’s lips were wet, but so were Phil’s.

Phil feels something akin to regret; he never got to tell Dan how he’d really felt. Maybe that was another reason Dan left – he felt unloved. Phil was always a shy boy, inexpressive at the worst times, and possibly his lack of verbal confirmation of his feelings was another breaking point for the other boy (Phil also suspects that Dan had run away from his sexuality, but this thought had only dawned on him in the previous year or two).

The walk from the station to the high school was a short one. Phil tries not to think of the awkward interactions he’ll have to have with friends-turned-strangers, but his mind can only think of one other topic, which happens to be Dan. This isn’t unusual, though – everything comes back to him.

At the front gate is his tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Harvey. Mr. Harvey certainly looks a lot different, his hair greyer and thinner, the lines on his face longer and deeper. In school, Phil had thought he was ancient, but now he’s older, Phil can see he’s got many happy years on him to go.

“Hello, Phil, it’s so nice to see you again,” he greets, sticking out a shaky hand. His wisps of hair blow a little in the wind.

“Hello, Sir. It’s nice to see you again, too,” Phil replies. He isn’t one for small talk, and his legs want to drag him inside. But, he stays. He can see inside from here, anyway, and his primary school best friend is sipping on something and cuddling up to a younger looking woman. Phil smiles softly.

Mr. Harvey lets him go, and Phil hurries on inside. The walls of the hall stretch above him, and ignite the same fear they had when he was thirteen and attending his first assembly. Ever the wallflower, Phil quietly slinks over to the food table, which is piled high with sandwiches and punch bowls. Phil scoops himself a glass, before sipping and staring over his cup, looking for someone to follow for the rest of the event.

Over the rim of the clear glass, he sees a head of curly brown hair, and for a moment his heart aches for the past, in the mornings when he and Dan slept over – but he realises it’s his old friend PJ, and breathes a deep sigh.

PJ catches his eye, and waves, running over to Phil’s side and wrapping him in a hug. They’d kept in touch after graduating, but had kind of drifted in the last five years. PJ pat his back softly, “Hey, mate, it’s nice to see you again!” He greeted, the same happy smile he had all through high school on his lips. A woman with a short head of brown hair turned up behind him, waving softly, hiding her face behind his shoulder. PJ introduced her to Phil as his fiancé, before excitedly inviting Phil to the wedding and asking about _his_ love life. Phil tried his best to dodge the question, and PJ let it go.

The afternoon seems to buzz by without Phil realising, but before too long he sees the doors open and close once again. But, this time it’s a lot more drastic and Phil can feel his heart beating so fast, and he wants to run away, but his thoughts are racing so fast he can’t pick one to focus on. A new member of the graduating class steps inside.

His hair is still pressed into a straight fringe, and he’s still wearing a monochrome fashion taste (and, as Phil guessed, it’s not to the dress code). His cheek has a little patch of red, where his skin used to flare when he was embarrassed or nervous, same as always. His sneakers are dotted with golden studs, and his ears are pierced with black circles.

It’s Dan, and Phil’s heart is in his throat. He wants to reach out and touch Dan’s soft, pale skin again. Drag his fingers through Dan’s soft, brown locks. Pretend that the last eight years of his life haven’t been complete and utter torture, and that this is the first time he’s thought about seeing him in years.

But, Dan turns back around, and he has a smile on his face that pulls painful memories to the front of Phil’s mind. Dan tugs another man through the door, sparing him the same smile Dan used to give Phil whenever they saw each other. The same, loving, adoring smile blessing his lips, but directed at another man. Phil’s heart plummets back into stomach.

Phil looks away – he can’t bear to look at Dan. At the man he’s been in love with since they were boys. At the boy who’s kept his heart, for the past eight years. A distant wish in Phil’s heart, drawing nearer and nearer: he wishes he were there with Dan, right now. Holding his hand, hugging him close. He knows that it’s wrong, so he turns back to PJ.

This, however, only lasts a few moments. He can’t bear to keep his eyes off him. He’s blossomed – he looks a lot older and mature compared to the last time he saw him. He looks happier, too. That thought prickled in Phil’s heart. Dan props himself on the stage at the far end of the auditorium, the man he’d brought along slotting his back between Dan’s legs. Dan hooks his arms around his neck, nuzzling their heads together. He hasn’t noticed Phil, but Phil doesn’t mind. He’s content, just watching, for now.

“You should talk to him… I didn’t even know you guys broke up,” PJ whispered, patting Phil on the shoulder. Phil gulped; he hadn’t told anybody, bar his mother who still tried to pair him up with other people. He couldn’t fall for anyone else, when he’d been secretly pining after his first love. Somehow, PJ had gotten the hint Phil didn’t realise he was giving.

“Uh… Yeah…” Phil muttered, scratching the back of his head. He can feel eyes on him, but he tries to ignore this – he’s projecting, he swears. “I’ll d-do that,” he gives a weak smile that PJ obviously doesn’t believe is real, because he replies with a sad smile.

Phil goes to make his way over – he doesn’t know exactly why. What was he to say? That he’d been in love with Dan for the last fourteen years of their lives? Phil shivers at the thought. Maybe, they’d just catch up. Dan was always smooth in conversation, hopefully he’d mended himself enough to keep a chat going.

Each step along the wooden floors echoes loudly in Phil’s ears, screaming _Stop! Don’t go any closer! How embarrassing!_ with every tap. He hushes his thoughts – he needs closure, right? It’s too hard, to live on like this. Maybe, just maybe, he can confess all the words he regrets not saying, like ‘I love you, Dan, can’t you see?’. And, maybe, just maybe, move on.

Phil hovers by the side of the stage as Dan and the man between his knees finish their conversation. The man spots Phil, first, tapping Dan on the thigh. Phil grimaces, _how many others have touched Dan like that?_ He thinks, bitterly.

Dan turns his head, a small, soft smile forming on his pink lips. The spot on his cheek is flared up. Phil doesn’t want to believe he sees sadness in his deep, brown eyes. He smiles back, giving a soft wave.

Dan slides his legs up, releasing the other man from his grasp, before shuffling closer to Phil. “Hello, Phil,” Dan says tenderly, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist. Phil’s breath catches in his throat, his hands finding their way to Dan’s back. Alarms ring in Phil’s head, _he still smells the same_. “How have you been?”

Butterflies erupt in Phil’s stomach, coming alive and twirling around. His heart is beating faster than he thinks it ever has. Dan is standing right in front of him and he’s been dreaming of this moment for eight years but he never imagined he’d be this terrified of making a mistake.

Phil curses small talk. “U-Uh, great! What about you?” He lies, chewing on his tongue as he lets Dan continue talking. The less he talks, the better, he thinks.

Dan smiles, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, before pushing his fringe back. He always messed with his hair, and Phil smiled, seeing as the habit was still around. Phil tries to stop the floodgate opening and the memories pouring through, but the nostalgia seems to trickle through the cracks, anyway. “Pretty good,” Dan answers, nodding. He opens his mouth to continue, but turns and grabs the man behind him, occupied by his phone. He pushes him in front of him, holding him up like a shield. “This is Caleb…” He smiles, but he doesn’t meet Phil’s eye.

Caleb smiles, sticking out his hand, “Nice to meet you,” he grins, flashing his green eyes at Phil.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Phil lies again, “I’m Phil.” He says, shaking hands with Caleb. Caleb’s eyes widen for a split second, and he turns to Dan as his grin falters for a moment.

Phil’s stomach is churning. Dan has moved on, of course he has. He’s always been more confident and daring and kind than Phil. Dan probably completely forgot about Phil until a minute or two ago. Phil inwardly sighs – he wants to go home and pretend this day never happened; pretend Dan still loved him.

“So, Phil, what have you been up too?” Dan asks, fingers brushing over Caleb’s forearms. He stills plays when he talks… Whenever Dan spoke to someone, he played with his fingers – and if Phil was there, he’d play with Phil’s. Phil wonders how many people have replaced him.

“Uh… Not much. I got a job on BBC Radio 1, but it’s a midnight show… My boss says they might move me to a late-night, soon, though,” Phil smiles softly, rubbing his finger over the side of his cup. “What about you? Did you go to that acting school?” The school Dan fled him for.

Dan flinches, but he still smiles. “Yeah! I graduated, and now I do some plays on the West End. Actually, my most recent production is where I met Caleb,” he smiles, looking behind Phil.

“I’m just an understudy, though,” Caleb laughs, waving off the statement.

Dan’s about to continue telling Phil about what he’s been up to, because he must know that Phil won’t talk about himself, when the entire room is interrupted. Their old principal stands in the centre of the room, telling the crowd that everyone had arrived and they’d get to the ceremony, then onto dancing – or something. But Phil wasn’t listening to her, and he never had.

Everyone grabs a chair and sets themselves up with friends. Phil can see old friendship groups setting themselves back up, just like they had in their years of growing up. Phil sits next to PJ, but not too close – and a few people behind Dan. He can see the back of Dan’s head. It feels strange, because this time, he knows it really _is_ Dan, and not some look-alike he’ll fall for and forget about a day later.

A projector screen lowers itself in front of them, and this is new. Music starts, and photos fade in and out on the video. Everyone laughs and blushes at their old hairstyles and taste in fashion. Many coo at old pictures with their best friends.

Phil didn’t expect a picture of he and Dan to fade in. Dan’s arms are wrapped around his neck as he sits high on his back. He remembers this. Neither of them enjoyed Physical Education or Athletics Day, so when the fateful day rolled around they would spend the day entertaining other kids and messing about. In this particular moment, Phil runs an entire 200m race with Dan riding on his back – and it was only a month or two later that they got together.

Phil laughs awkwardly as the picture fades out, and PJ gives him a sad smile. Dan, a few rows in front, laughs softly as Caleb coos at him. Phil balls his fists in frustration, but he notices, for a split second, a look of sheer sadness on Dan’s face. He sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut.

The video ends eventually, and the principal puts on some music and everyone pushes the chairs against the walls and starts dancing. The music is groovy and fun, but Phil doesn’t want much to do with it. It hurts too much to be here any longer, when Dan is in the middle of the group of dancers with his boyfriend, happier than Phil’s been in eight years. Phil grabs a glass of wine from one of the students serving at the gathering, and leans against the wall by the food table again.

He’s comfortable here. Swirling his glass in a circle, the yellowish sparkling liquid flips up the side of the glass. He thinks he shouldn’t have come. Knowing the one he’d been in love with for half of his life was with another person was less than satisfying. He would have happily pined for the rest of his measly existence, then know Dan Howell will never want him again.

Phil feels a tap on his shoulder, and looks up to meet the golden brown eyes of that very person. He blushes, gulping, ducking his head away again. Dan chuckles distantly, “May I have this dance?” He asks, bending over slightly and extending his hand. Phil realises the music has come to a slow, soothing melody.

“U-Uh, sure. I mean… Yes, please,” he smiles softly, placing his glass on the corner of the table. Dan grins, and takes Phil’s hand in his. Phil’s head spins, as Dan takes him out to the centre of the dancefloor, delicately holding onto his fingers. His hands are just as warm as they used to be.

Dan places his hand on Phil’s shoulder, and moves Phil’s down to his waist as he’s frozen in spot, staring at Dan as if he were crazy. “You still can’t dance, can you?” Dan asks, as they take their first side steps. He chuckles as Phil shakes his head, blushing. They’d danced outside on the night of their graduation, too scared to dance amongst their peers as they hadn’t come out yet. Underneath the stars, Dan teased him about not knowing where to place his feet. Phil often dreams of this moment.

Dan rests his head on Phil’s shoulder after a minute or two, and Phil’s knees would give way if he weren’t holding onto Dan for support. Right here, dancing in his arms, is the boy he’s lost touch with. The boy he held so dearly in his heart for so long. Phil wonders if he _is_ dreaming. Did he fall asleep on the train?

“I miss you,” Dan says, voice muffled against Phil’s jacket. He pushes his head closer to the point where Phil’s neck and shoulder meet. His hair tickles at Phil’s neck and a roaring red blush decorates his cheeks. The butterflies come alive again in his stomach.

This is Dan. The Dan he’s known for almost his whole life, but at the same time, it’s not. He’s older and a lot more broken, but you can see in his eyes that he’s the opposite of Phil – he was able to put himself back together, at least, mostly. Phil feels dizzy, like his world his spinning upside down, but somehow, he’s still planted on the ground.

“I missed you, too,” Phil replies, and he can imagine being awarded Understatement of the Decade.

Dan pulls back a little, and he watches the ground for a moment, where their feet are coming to a halt. “N-No, Phil…” he begins, but ends his sentence short, with a drooping sigh. His hand on Phil’s shoulder squeezes for a moment. He drags it up to Phil’s chin, but only for a moment, before he drops it to his side.

Phil can see the end coming, and he wants to grab Dan’s hand and bring it back into his own, so he’s holding both hands. But, he’s unmoving, this bizarre day too much for him, now.

“Phil… That’s not what I meant,” Dan says, and then he chuckles at himself, and releases Phil’s other hand, bringing it to his face to hide.

Phil is so confused. Carefully, he reaches out to Dan’s hands and pulls them back. Dan looks up at him quizzically, eyes shining under the lights. Or maybe they were tears – Phil didn’t want to differentiate. “What did you mean, then?”

Dan leans in close, his lips brushing against the shell of Phil’s ear. Phil almost leaps back, almost, but the feel of Dan’s lips against his skin again sends paralysing prickles all over his body. “I said I _miss_ you.” As he pulls back, his presses a delicate, barely there, kiss to Phil’s cheek. The emphasis on the word _miss_ makes it sound like it isn’t the word he wanted to use.

“Y-You…” Phil begins to process Dan’s words. He feels even dizzier. “You still love me?” He guesses, because, he can only hope.

Dan looks at the door for a moment, and just as Phil’s eyes are about to follow his Dan turns his head back. He nods, and then he smiles, and then he nods again, more vigorously. And then, he cries. Huge droplets form in the corners of the eyes Phil had once memorised, and fall down his still plump cheeks, under his chin and onto his shirt. It’s similar to the last time Phil had seen Dan, but with an older face, this time.

Phil starts to cry, too. He’d never imagined this scenario, and he had imagined many. Phil can feel eyes on him, but he doesn’t mind. Dan brings the back of his hand to Phil’s cheeks, wiping away the streaks of new tears. “Why are you crying?” He asks, and it sounds quite nasally.

Phil can’t speak; his lips are sewn shut in a smile. “Because,” he manages. “I still love you, too, but you have Caleb,” he says, the same, pathetic smile he’s worn for the past eight years on his face.

Dan steps back for a moment, blinking a few times. He opens his mouth to speak, but he stops himself. He shakes his head furiously, before clutching Phil by the wrist and tugging him out of the room. Phil is swept along with him, out under the darkening clouds and away from what once was. They come to a stop in the carpark, hidden behind a tree.

Dan is crying again, sobbing into Phil’s shoulder. “Why did you bring me out here?” Phil asks, rubbing his back, slowly. He doesn’t feel like he’s actually here. His spirit is still resting against the wall of the auditorium, stunned.

Dan ignores his question, shaking his head. He steps back, pushing his back against the tree. “Phil… How long have you loved me for?”

Phil doesn’t have to think about this. It’s a fact that’s been beaten into his knowledge, a fact he remembers every single day. How could he forget, when everything reminded him of Dan?

“Since I was fourteen,” he answers, looking away. The wind is cold, but Phil doesn’t want to go back inside. He likes it when it’s just he and Dan. He always has.

Dan gasps, “What about when… When I left for university? When I broke up with you?”

Phil doesn’t want to think about that day. When Dan gave his teary final words, before running off and onto a bus that took him out of the city. Phil didn’t leave the bus station for hours; he sat on the chair, and cried, and cried, until the last bus driver told him, carefully, to go home.

Phil only nodded, in response to Dan. That’s all he needed to do.

Dan sobbed harder, clutching his hair into his fists and pulling. His legs shook under his crumbling composure. Phil held onto his shoulders gently, but Dan shrugs out of his grasp. Maybe he hadn’t put himself back together, either. “And… The past eight years?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Phil confesses, the words falling from between his lips, and dancing in Dan’s face. Dan gasps, because now Phil has opened the floodgates and he’ll confess to everything, all his emotions, over and over until Dan understands the impact he’d made on Phil’s life.

“I’m sorry,” Dan says, voice tearing at the vowels. The wind is stronger, now, and it pushes his tears sideways across his cheeks. Phil wants to ask, ‘ _You don’t think I’m crazy?’_ but he refrains, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from confessing even more. So, he stays silent.

“I don’t love Caleb.” Dan says after a silence that lasted too long. He’s not crying anymore, and the wind has whipped his cheeks dry. Phil lifts his head, from where he was staring at his feet. “He’s just a friend – I knew I’d see you today. I needed you to think I’d picked myself back up after we broke up – but I haven’t.

“These past eight years have been absolute bloody _torture_ , Phil. I made a mistake, I’m _sorry_! I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’ve loved you since the very first day. I loved you when I broke up with you, I loved you when I left, and I’ve loved you ever since, and I couldn’t bear to see this day end without telling you this, Phil. I love you. I love you, so much,” Dan is crumpled into a ball on the ground, and Phil can’t quite focus on what’s happening.

Phil falls to his knees and shuffles over to Dan’s side, wrapping his arms around him. Dan is shaking in his grasp, but he stretches his hands out and clutches onto Phil. “I don’t deserve you,” Dan whispers, and Phil shakes his head adamantly.

Phil takes Dan’s chin in his hand, and lifts it so their eyes meet. Phil feels the butterflies in his stomach again, but as he stares so closely into the brown eyes he’d missed so dearly, they spread into his chest, and his arms and legs, and flutter in his head, too.

“C-Can I kiss you?” Phil asks – because he’s waited so long for this moment and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Dan nods slowly, and Phil leans forward, pressing their lips together.

It’s magical, it’s ethereal, and it’s better than Phil had ever remembered. Maybe that’s just the feeling of victory in his heart, as their lips move together. Dan’s lips are soft and slow and sweet, and his fingers grace the hairs at the nape of Phil’s neck tugging at them slightly. Their kiss is almost exactly as Phil remembered it being, only Dan seems needier.

“I’m so sorry,” Dan whispers, shakily against Phil’s lips.

“Me, too,” Phil replies, pressing a kiss to Dan’s temple.

\--

The sun is comfortably warm.

Phil wants to sleep-in to cherish the sheets soaked with warmth some more. He rolls over into the patch of sun, only to receive a gentle groan. Phil giggles, rolling back. The head of brown hair turns to face him, left cheek indented with pillow creases – but he still smiles the same smile he always does.

“Good morning,” Dan mumbles, sticking out his hand to retrieve Phil’s. He presses a kiss to the top of the pale hand.

The warmth in Phil’s heart won’t leave – it hasn’t, for years, now.

**Author's Note:**

> please check out my tumblr [fivepixelphan](fivepixelphan.tumblr.com) for updates (as fics often take a long time. i am a slow and depressed writer lmao).  
> I really do love receiving your comments, whether it be feedback or just telling me what you thought! I love getting messages in my askbox and prompts, too!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this fic and look forward to more from me in the future!


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